


these things i need

by yeolocity



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Comeplay, Crossdressing, Feminization, Humiliation, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Rimming, Size Kink, Taeyong likes to feel pretty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 10:56:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeolocity/pseuds/yeolocity
Summary: taeyong spins again, slowly, trying to brand this into his memory. he runs his hands all over himself, slipping his fingers under the waistband of the panties, skimming over the cut of them digging in to the swell of his bottom, snapping the suspenders against his skin. he gasps, tingles shivering up his spine, and he can feel himself starting to swell with need between his thighs.





	these things i need

**Author's Note:**

> something to note: there is a moment during the sex scene where taeyong tells jaehyun 'no,' and asks him to stop, and while i tried to make it as clear as possible in the context of the story that taeyong doesn't _actually_ want jaehyun to stop, i just want to clarify it again here. everything jaehyun does to taeyong is 100% consensual, and if he were to push taeyong too far, taeyong would safe word out. 
> 
> with that note, please enjoy.

the connotations of words has always been something that taeyong didn’t ever quite understand. his entire life, he’s wondered why some words could mean the same thing on paper, but entirely different things based on its perception in the world around it.

taeyong’s always been handsome. ever since he was a child, for as long as he can remember, he recalls the way other women would approach his mother and coo at taeyong, compliment his dark, wide eyes and thick lashes, and tell his mother how he was definitely going to break hearts some day. visual aesthetic is something taeyong is not unfamiliar with, and he knows that he’s the face of nct for a reason. all of the members are good looking, but taeyong?

taeyong’s  _ beautiful. _

he tries not to take advantage, not to bat his eyes or pout his full lips too often, because honestly, the attention he gets from strangers for how he looks makes him a little uncomfortable sometimes. but still, he’s beautiful, and he knows he is. people tell him every day, and taeyong used to flush to his toes whenever people would utter the word  _ beautiful.  _ now, though, the compliments pass right over his head because, while they’re nice and all, they’re not the words taeyong wants to hear.

what he wants - god, what he really,  _ really wants -  _ is for someone to look him in the eye and tell him he’s  _ pretty. _

but for some reason, when people talk about taeyong,  _ pretty  _ is not a word they use to describe him.  _ pretty  _ is reserved for the other idols, the girls, with their long, silky hair and sleek legs, tiny waists and small faces.

taeyong’s thin, slender, but he still has hard edges and a sharp jawline, scars on his knobby knees and stubble on his chin, an Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat that disqualifies him, because, for some odd reason,  _ pretty _ just isn’t a word people usually use to describe a man. 

even if people don’t say it out loud, if taeyong’s never had someone look him in the face and utter those words to him -  _ taeyong, you’re so pretty - _ he still  _ feels  _ it. 

taeyong doesn’t consider himself a very secretive person, no more closed off than anyone else, but he does have one secret, one he’s never told anyone else, one he doesn’t know if he’ll ever tell. it’s his best kept, nestled deep in his heart along with every other need he’s always been too scared to voice aloud, tucked deep in the drawer he keeps hidden in the back of his closet that nobody ever looks for, that nobody’s ever even known is there.

his fingers shake as they skim over the little brass knob, brushing the shiny surface and leaving little oily smears as they go. he’s going to need to get a bigger one soon, his collection growing much too large now for the space he has to hold it. he traces along the top of the drawer, softly tucking a piece of delicate baby pink lace back where it belongs.

he’s almost completely by himself in the dorm tonight; yuta, dongyoung, taeil, and mark have gone out for dinner and drinks and won’t be back until late, johnny and jaehyun have night night, donghyuck is off at the dreamies’ dorm, and sicheng is passed out so deeply on the sofa that taeyong can hear him snoring from where he stands partially tucked inside his closet with the bedroom door closed. he doesn’t get opportunities like this often, and his fingers shake with anticipation as he grips the brass knob on the drawer and slowly pulls it open.

a rainbow of pastels flows out, a flood of lace, satin, and silk spilling over. he gave up on folding his things long ago, when his collection became too much for him to handle, when he lost more and more time to indulge himself in lieu of concerts and interviews and shows, and the time he did have had to be hasty, barely enough time for him to enjoy the way the dainty fabric felt on his skin, the way it made him look, before he had to rush to take it off and shove it back where it came from before one of the other members barged in unannounced and caught him, exposed and red-handed.

he has time today that he hasn’t had in  _ months, _ and his breathing picks up when he thinks about how long he’ll get to stay dressed up today, how he even had time earlier to shave his legs so he could put on his favorite pair of stockings, how he’ll have time to roll around on his bed and pose himself like someone’s watching, dark eyes clouded with lust, voice rough with desire as he says  _ show off for me, baby. you look so pretty. _

gently, he traces his fingers over the bundles of fabric, over the panties and the stockings and the garters, skimming over lace and silk and satin, pausing only to pick out a pair he thinks he might want to wear today, and by the time he’s done, he’s pulled out four or five sets, lip pinched between his teeth as his veins buzz with excitement. 

it only takes him a moment to decide, shoving the other sets back in the drawer once he’s picked the one he wants. he makes sure everything is tucked back in before he closes the drawer, stepping out from the closet with his chosen set in hand. he shuts the closet door gently, not wanting to risk waking sicheng even though he knows that sicheng is well knocked out for the next few hours, but still. taeyong’s just cautious. 

gingerly, taeyong lays his set out on his duvet, mouth going dry at the sight of it on his boring navy blue sheets. it’s the most expensive set he owns; he saved up for it for  _ months _ , and the day it finally came in the mail, when he was finally able to open it and hold it in his hands, he nearly cried with joy. nothing compared to the way he felt when he wore it, like his body was someone else’s, like he was absolute perfection, completely and utterly unflawed. 

the set is lace and mesh, nude with rosy pink lace overlays. the panties are tiny, barely enough to cover taeyong completely, even with how small he is. a little pink satin bow sits top and center. the garter belt is made of the same material, but mesh where the panties are satin, with scalloped edges and a matching bow. he chose a simple pair of nude stockings to go with it, wanting to keep the focus on the splashes of pink flowers that laid over his skin like they were painted there. 

taeyong strips slowly, wanting nothing more than to draw it out, to bask in the process that feels almost ritualistic, like he’s shedding his skin and being born anew as someone else, someone ethereal and otherworldly. 

he kicks his shed clothing away, and he stands for a moment, naked, and stares at his body in the mirror across the room. he’s slender, collarbones sloping from his shoulders to the base of his throat, tummy flat and spotted with a few freckles here and there. he’s bare from the waist down, completely shaven, and he looks even smaller like this. he used to be self conscious, too hyper aware of how small he is between his thighs, but now he  _ loves _ it, loves the way he can wear the smallest, daintiest things and they  _ fit,  _ without him having to force it. 

he shivers, skin breaking out in goosebumps, and turns away from the mirror, unable to make himself wait any longer. 

the stockings go on first, gingerly rolled up his smooth legs, tugged up his thighs. he reaches for the garter belt next, wrapping it around his waist and fastening the hooks, turning it into place. he clips the suspenders to the top of his stockings, and he has to take a moment to catch his breath at the feeling of them pressing into the flesh of his thighs. lastly come the panties; he puts them on slowly, swaying his hips as he settles the waistband over them. he adjusts himself, making sure he’s completely tucked away, before he turns back to the mirror.

he gasps when he sees himself; he never gets used to it, the way his body transforms in front of his own eyes. his hips look supple with the garter above them, with the waistband of the panties digging just barely into the fleshiest parts, the stockings making his legs look soft, smooth, and miles long. there’s barely a sign of the man taeyong was before he slipped the set on; he’s still himself, of course, but now he’s  _ more _ .

he feels so soft, so sexy, and so, so  _ pretty. _

he twirls around, looking over his shoulder, studying the way the cut of the panties makes the swell of his bottom look supple and bouncy. he smacks himself to watch the way it jiggles, and he wishes so desperately that he had someone to bend him over their lap and spank him raw, cooing sweet nothings as they beat his ass pinker than the lace roses laid over his skin.

taeyong wishes he could take pictures.  _ god,  _ what he wouldn’t give to be able to steal a glance at a photo of himself like this, on his worst days when his body feels too big and sharp, too hard and rough. he could look back at the photos and see the way his body looks now, wrapped in satin and lace, and remember how pretty he is, how he’s never seen anyone who looks better in expensive lingerie as he does.

but of course, it’s too risky. he can’t ever save anything on his phone that he wouldn’t be okay with the entire world seeing. if his secret ever got out, it wouldn’t just be his ass on the line, but the entirety of nct, and taeyong would never forgive himself if his family, his seventeen brothers, lost their chance at achieving their dreams because he had long since given up on trying to keep his head above the surface of his depravity. he’s drowning, but he’s okay with it, so long as he doesn’t have to take anyone else down with him.

he’s left his hair down and without product, and it falls soft over his forehead, curling around his ears. he thinks it looks best this way; he feels sweeter like this, when his hair is just slightly too long, falling over his brows and framing his eyes, accentuating deep brown irises and thick lashes. he looks like a doll, and his skin is buzzing.

taeyong spins again, slowly, trying to brand this into his memory. he runs his hands all over himself, slipping his fingers under the waistband of the panties, skimming over the cut of them digging in to the swell of his bottom, snapping the suspenders against his skin. he gasps, tingles shivering up his spine, and he can feel himself starting to swell with need between his thighs. 

taeyong sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, contemplating. he doesn’t usually like to jerk off while he’s dressed up, feels like it blurs the line too much and makes it seem like he wears these things because it’s a fetish - and while he’ll admit that it does get him off to see himself like this, there’s so much more behind why he does what he does other than to get his dick hard - but sometimes, when it’s been so long since he’s had the chance to dress up how he wants, he can’t help the way the desire burns through his veins. he drags a hand up his thigh, digging his fingers into the flesh, scoring sore pink marks into the skin. he presses his palm where he needs it most, hips rocking almost involuntarily into the pressure, chasing the twinges of pleasure that make his toes curl. 

taking a deep, shuddering breath, taeyong turns away from the mirror and crawls onto his bed. the sheets, usually so rough, feel like silk on his skin. everything always feels so much better when taeyong does this, when taeyong himself feels better, softer and sweeter and prettier.

he touches himself like it’s somebody else touching him, like the pair of hands are not his, but belong to that same pair of dark eyes he always thinks about, that haunt his dreams and stock his fantasies, and drive him crazier than he’s ever been. he takes his time, skimming over his thighs and his hips and his belly. 

he’s aching, straining against the delicate silk, wetting it where he leaks with need. he reaches down to pull the panties from his hips, shimmying them down and off so he’s left in nothing but his garter and stockings. 

he always feels so pretty when he gets dressed up like this, but now, spread open and hard with need, he feels  _ dirty, _ and he’s not entirely sure which feeling he likes more in this moment. 

the grip of his hand around his need makes him whine, feels so good that he can’t keep teasing himself, chases the pleasure like it’s a sprint. his hips shake and he whimpers at the buzz that starts deep in his belly, curling tighter and tighter until it snaps.

he comes with a muffled cry, hand pressed over his mouth. his release spills pearly over his thighs, mottling the skin above the stockings. it looks so lewd, and taeyong wishes there were someone else here to see it, to smear the come into his skin and tell him he did good, that he’s perfect and pretty and everything they’ve ever wanted.

instead, taeyong does it on his own, basking in the afterglow of his pleasure. he stretches out on the bed, rubbing his ankles together. he feels so good, luminescent like he rarely ever is, basking in the way his body is singing. 

he’s so deep within it, so absorbed in the feeling that he doesn’t even hear it when the front door opens, when johnny and jaehyun return from night night early. taeyong is still on another plane of existence, rolling around on his bed as jaehyun makes his way to taeyong’s door, hand on the doorknob and request on the tip of his tongue as he pushes it open. 

taeyong thought that it’d be a bigger moment, when his life was ruined.

he thought there’d be a fight, an explosion, or something. something huge, grand, and completely unavoidable that taeyong would just have to accept, to nod and say yes and acknowledge that everything he worked so hard in his life to achieve had just gone up in flames. 

instead, it comes in the form of jaehyun, bursting into taeyong’s bedroom, bright and excited until he spots taeyong on the bed, still covered in his own come, dressed in women’s lingerie. 

“hyung, are you bus-  _ oh my god, _ ” jaehyun comes in faster than taeyong can possibly scramble to cover himself up, panicking as he tries to yank his sheets from where they’re tucked under the mattress, desperately trying to hide himself. he finally manages to get a blanket over himself, face flaming and throat thick as he tries not to cry. he’s so  _ embarrassed, _ and all of the warm, happy glow that he’d felt only moments ago has drained from his body, leaving him cold and barren.

jaehyun is just standing in the doorway, too shocked to move or say anything else. his mouth is opening and closing, like he’s trying to find words, but can’t think of what he should say after he just caught his hyung not only post-jerk off, but also dressed in nothing else but a garter belt and stockings. taeyong knows jaehyun can see the panties, too, where they lay on the floor in front of him, knocked off the bed in taeyong’s haste to cover his indecency. 

“shit, i’m so sorry, hyung i -” jaehyun sputters, trying to find the right thing to say, but the longer he stands there, the more mortified taeyong becomes.

“get out,” taeyong says, but his voice is too quiet and jaehyun’s still rambling, so he doesn’t hear him. taeyong takes a breath to steady himself. “get  _ out! _ ” he shouts, shaky with panic, and jaehyun finally shuts up, looking at taeyong with wide eyes. “get out,” taeyong repeats meekly, one more time, and thankfully,  _ thankfully,  _ jaehyun gets the message, turning on his heel and scurrying back out the way he came. he closes the door behind him and taeyong is left alone again, feeling uncomfortably dirty, like his skin is too tight and he’s struggling to breathe. 

taeyong all but leaps out of bed, yanking at his stockings and his garter belt in his haste to get them off. his eyes burn as he tries to fight back tears, and when he hears the telltale sound of fabric tearing, he doesn’t even care. he just strips as fast as he can, crumpling his pretty, expensive set up into a ball and cramming it into the bottom drawer of his nightstand, burning with the urge to just get it out of his sight. 

naked and shaking, taeyong returns to his bed, crawling under to covers and tucking his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them to make himself as small as he possibly can. he feels so  _ stupid, _ hot tears spilling down of his cheeks. all of his good feelings are gone, and now he just feels too big for his own body, and so stupid to think that what he was doing was okay; he thought he had time so he stopped being careful, and it came back to bite him right in the ass.

taeyong squeezes his eyes shut against the tears, burning with shame. 

x

the thing about being an idol, about sharing his dream with seventeen other people, is that, no matter the situation, taeyong will never have to do anything truly on his own. he’ll always have someone there, someone to hold his hand when he needs it and tell him that he’s going to do great, that he’s amazing and talented, to have confidence in him when taeyong struggles to have confidence in himself. someone will always be there to have his back. it’s the best part about doing this job, living this life, taeyong thinks. usually.

except now, someone notices right away when something’s off, when taeyong finally wanders out of his room only minutes before nct 127 is supposed to be collected for the day. johnny eyes him suspiciously, lips pursed into a thin line as he watches taeyong move slowly throughout the dorm, eyes downcast and refusing to look anyone in the face. he’s being obvious, he knows, but he can’t help it. he can’t shake the feelings from last night; he still feels like he’s out of place in his own body, nerves like live wires as he hangs on edge, looking out for jaehyun in his peripherals because he can’t face him, not yet. he’s not ready.

taeyong hangs back when the others leave the dorm to catch the bus waiting outside for them, telling some lie about how he forgot his phone in the room, that he’ll be out in a minute. he almost manages the lie, but at the last moment, johnny stops before he’s out the door, closing it behind dongyoung and turning to face taeyong.

“what’s going on with you?” johnny asks, leaning up against the door.

“nothing,” taeyong says, the lie sounding wholly unconvincing even to his own ears. 

johnny rolls his eyes. “you don’t want to talk about it then, got it,” he says. “but if you want to, you know i’m always here to listen. don’t keep your shit inside, okay? you know what that does to you, and your dark circles are already bad enough as it is, yong.”

taeyong laughs once, humorlessly. “i know,” he says. “but i’m okay. i’ll - i’ll  _ be _ okay. it’s really not a big deal. i promise.”

johnny sighs, reaching out to clap taeyong on the shoulder. he squeezes once, reassuring. “c’mon then,” he says. “busy day today, yeah?”

taeyong follows johnny out of the dorm and down to the bus, keeping his eyes downcast as he gets on and plops down into the first open seat he sees, next to yuta. yuta’s already fallen back asleep, airpods in his ears, dead to the world. at least taeyong won’t have to talk to anyone else, yet.

the entire ride, taeyong can feel eyes burning into the back of his skull, and he knows, without a doubt, that it’s jaehyun staring him down, begging wordlessly for taeyong to turn around and meet his eyes. jaehyun is the type who likes to talk about things, to work out issues right when they arise, but taeyong’s not ready. he’s not ready to sit down with jaehyun and explain to jaehyun what he saw, explain to his dongsaeng how he dresses up in women’s lingerie sometimes because he likes the way it makes him feel pretty.

no. taeyong’s not ready for that.

the rest of the day is unbearably awkward; taeyong spends it peeking around corners and scurrying out of rooms as fast as he can whenever he spots jaehyun in the same one, ignoring all of the concerned glances that johnny sends his way. he almost feels bad when he sees the wounded look on jaehyun’s face when he ducks out of the same room as him for the fourth time in the span of an hour, but if taeyong is anything, he’s a coward. 

by the time they’ve completed all of their schedule for the day, taeyong is so utterly exhausted that all he wants to do is get on the bus, go home, and curl up in his bed to sleep. he’s dead on his feet, so much so that when he sits down in a seat on the bus, he makes the mistake of keeping the seat next to him open, and before he can correct his mistake, jaehyun is sitting down next to him.

taeyong panics, scrambling for his airpods in his pocket, but jaehyun is quicker, grabbing taeyong’s wrist before he can reach them. jaehyun doesn’t say anything, just holds taeyong’s wrist until everyone else is on the bus and it’s pulling away from the curb, lights in the cab going low. 

jaehyun releases taeyong’s wrist once the lights have gone down. taeyong pulls his hand back, wiping his clammy palm on his jeans. “hyung,” jaehyun murmurs, voice low enough that it won’t carry. “are we going to talk about this, or not?”

“not,” taeyong says, surprised that his voice is even audible. 

“taeyong,” jaehyun says, sterner this time. “whatever you think i’m going to say, you’re wrong.”

“am i?” taeyong questions. “what do i think you’re going to say, then?”

“you think i’m going to say i’m disgusted,” jaehyun says. “you think i’m going to ask if i saw what i think i saw, and then tell you how weird it is, and that you’re depraved, or a pervert, or whatever other nasty word you think i’m going to call you.” jaehyun pauses, pursing his lips. “and honestly, hyung, i’m hurt. do you really think i’d say those kinds of things to you?”

“i don’t know, okay?” taeyong says. his hands shake where they rest in his lap. “what was i supposed to think? you walk in and you see me like - like  _ that,  _ and i’m just supposed to think you’re cool with it?”

“hyung,” jaehyun says, voice tinged with the slightest hint of exasperation. “i walked in on you post jerk off, one where you had just so happened to be indulging a kink. it’s fine. we all have our fetishes -”

“it’s  _ not _ ,” taeyong interrupts. jaehyun meets his eyes, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “it’s not a fetish.”

“then what is it?” jaehyun asks. “explain it to me, yonggie. so i can understand.”

taeyong shakes his head. he knows jaehyun’s just trying to make him feel better, but the thought of explaining to jaehyun why he does what he does has taeyong’s stomach in knots, nausea burning at the back of his throat. “no,” taeyong says. 

“why not?” jaehyun asks.

“because it’s not  _ for _ you, okay?” taeyong says, voice so low it sounds almost like a hiss, masking the way taeyong feels like he’s about to have a panic attack. jaehyun recoils from the venom, just a bit, and taeyong is thankful for the small reprieve. “it’s for me, and i don’t want to explain why. the only reason you even know about it is because you saw. i didn’t want you to see, i didn’t want to talk about it, i didn’t want you to  _ ask me _ about it, but you did. and that’s the only reason why i’m saying this now. so just leave it, okay? leave me alone.” taeyong finishes with a huff, still feeling like he’s going to vomit. 

jaehyun flounders, seemingly unsure of how to respond. taeyong’s never snapped at jaehyun like this before, never even turned a hostile eye his way, and now here he is, nearly biting jaehyun’s head off because jaehyun dared to try and talk to taeyong about something taeyong wasn’t ready to talk about just yet. 

but it’s just that - taeyong’s not ready, and he feels like jaehyun is trying to drag him kicking and screaming out into the theoretical light. all of the sense that tells taeyong he’s overreacting is overshadowed by his own sense of self-preservation, of wanting to keep his secrets  _ secret _ , tucked inside the drawer he keeps buried in the back of his closet.

so, instead of letting jaehyun talk, taeyong turns away, pulling his airpods from his pocket and putting them in his ears, cranking his music up as loud as he needs to in order to drown out any and all sounds around him, making a clear point to jaehyun that they’re done talking about it. from his peripherals, taeyong sees jaehyun sigh, running a hand through his hair. he shakes his head but doesn’t try to press any further, leaning back into his seat and shutting his eyes, like he intends to nap. taeyong knows he’s faking, being a good friend and giving taeyong the space he so clearly wants, but he can see from the pinch of jaehyun’s mouth that jaehyun doesn’t actually  _ want _ to, that taeyong’s forcing his hand.

whatever, taeyong thinks, trying to comfort himself. it’s not his place to be upset.

they don’t speak for the rest of the drive back to the dorm, and the awkward tension between them makes taeyong itch. he doesn’t want to feel like this, like he’s mad at jaehyun for just trying to be understanding, for just pushing a little too hard when taeyong didn’t want to be pushed. but that’s what jaehyun  _ does -  _ he’s the extrovert to taeyong’s introvert, the one who gets taeyong out of his shell when all he wants to do is clam up inside it, and taeyong can’t blame jaehyun for wanting to try to fix something when he thought he’d broken it. 

taeyong’s bed is calling to him, and he wants nothing more than to wash his face and go to bed, but once they get into the dorm, taeyong grabs jaehyun’s wrist in an echo of the same way jaehyun had grabbed him, and tugs him into the kitchen.

“hyung?” jaehyun asks, concerned. “what’s -?”

“i’m sorry,” taeyong says, cutting jaehyun off. “for yelling at you, i mean. i know - i know you weren’t trying to overstep, but i’m just not ready to talk about it, okay? and i’m not sure when or if i will be.” taeyong pauses, taking a breath. “i didn’t ever plan on anyone finding out, and it’s weird for me now that you know. i’m not mad, jae. i’m still not going to explain, but i’m not mad.”

jaehyun stares at taeyong for a moment, his face flickering through a myriad of emotions before he settles on a small, reassuring smile. “i’m sorry too, hyung,” he says. “i shouldn’t have pushed it. what you do on your own time is your business, not mine. i should’ve kept my nose out of it.”

“you should have,” taeyong agrees, returning jaehyun’s smile. “but it’s okay.”

“it’s okay,” jaehyun echoes. he holds a hand out, waiting. taeyong meets him in the middle, linking their fingers and squeezing for a moment before he lets go. 

“you should get to bed,” taeyong says. 

“you, too,” jaehyun replies. “early day again tomorrow.”

“right,” taeyong agrees, yet neither he nor jaehyun make a move to leave the kitchen. instead, jaehyun reaches out, hesitant in as much so that it feels like he’s moving in slow motion, and presses a hand lightly against taeyong’s cheek. 

“i’m sorry if i’m overstepping again,” he says, voice so sure a moment ago, but low and whispered now, “but i still hope you’ll tell me.”

taeyong sighs, letting his eyes fall closed as he leans into jaehyun’s touch, just for a moment. “maybe,” he says. “but don’t get your hopes up.”

“of course,” jaehyun says, letting his hand fall from taeyong’s cheek, down his neck and over his shoulder before he lets it drop entirely. he tucks his hands into his pockets, brushing past taeyong as he leaves the kitchen. “night, hyung,” he says as he leaves, and taeyong is alone once more.

he stands in the kitchen for a moment longer, until he hears the door to jaehyun’s room open and close. taeyong pads softly out of the kitchen, into his own room where johnny is already fast asleep, snoring lightly. quietly, as not to disturb him, taeyong wanders over to his nightstand, opening the bottom drawer and digging through it until he finds what he wants. his set, crumpled and wrinkled alongside old travel packs of tissues and makeup wipes, junk he’s tossed in there and never thought of a second time; his pretty, expensive set, thrown in with the things he doesn’t care about, because he’s too ashamed of the things he needs to ever let anyone else know about them. 

taeyong sighs, dropping the set back into the drawer and closing it again.

he doesn’t want to be embarrassed about this, he doesn’t. he wants to tell jaehyun everything, honestly and earnestly, and have jaehyun tell him that it’s okay, that there’s nothing wrong with needing what he needs, with needing something like this. the thought of it burns him; the thought of the tiny iota of freedom that would come with having someone else know his secret, someone else to share the burden with him.

but the other side of it terrifies him; what if jaehyun tells? what if taeyong gets too careless again, and more people find out? his secret is secret for a reason, and the thought of having all of his dirty laundry both literally and figuratively spilled out for everyone to see makes taeyong’s throat go tight, makes him sick with worry, and he’s not ready.

maybe he will be eventually, but right now, as it stands, he’s not. he wants his secrets to be secrets for a little while longer, and as long as jaehyun understands that, they’ll be okay. 

he’s not ready to think about what happens if they’re not.

x

thankfully, the next few days see things return back to normal, and taeyong is almost able to forget that jaehyun knows his secret. nothing about their relationship has changed, and taeyong could almost think he imagined jaehyun walking in on him if he didn’t know better. 

they’ve got the day off again, and he, jaehyun, johnny, and mark have decided to go out for dinner, something they haven’t done in much too long. they’re at taeyong’s favorite barbeque place, giggling over too much soju and burning the meat on the grill. it’s good, it’s great, and jaehyun’s presence next to taeyong in the booth has taeyong feeling nothing but warmth and happiness, tingling with joy at having the people he loves so close, grateful that his own indiscretions haven’t ruined the most important relationships in his life.

“no, no, i’m telling you, you have to drink if you’ve  _ done _ it, not if you haven’t done it,” mark’s slurring, waving his hands around in the air as he tries to drunkenly explain the semantics of “never have i ever.” 

“then what’s the point? why call the game ‘never have i ever’ then?” johnny argues back. taeyong catches jaehyun’s eye, giggling into his palm when jaehyun circles a finger around his ear, and mouths  _ crazy _ as mark and johnny continue to bicker.

“whatever, whatever,” mark says. “let’s just play.”

for all of johnny’s arguing, he seems to understand the game perfectly well, and they go around from person to person, tossing back shots of soju as they snort with laughter. mark had made a rule not to target someone specifically when they’d started the game, but now that they’re plenty tipsy, that rule has been thrown out the window, and they’ve started dragging out their favorite dirty secrets, cackling every time one of them is forced to relive one of their most embarrassing moments.

“wait, wait, i got one,” taeyong says, holding up his hand to stop johnny from ordering that he drink and skip his turn. “never - never have i ever h-hooked up with a bandmate and then lied about it.”

johnny lets out an indignant wail, and mark nearly snorts his drink up his nose. johnny throws the shot back, and taeyong’s so distracted by mark nearly falling over from laughing so hard that he almost misses jaehyun knock back a shot of his own. 

it seems that taeyong is the only one who noticed, though, and he doesn’t want to be the one who calls jaehyun out. his brain is reeling, though, trying to figure out which one of his other members jaehyun could have possibly hooked up with, and why he didn’t tell taeyong about it. they tell each other  _ everything. _

_ not everything, _ taeyong reminds himself, remembering the panic he felt when jaehyun walked in and caught him red handed, and his own refusal to explain to jaehyun exactly what it was that he saw.

the game ends when mark goes to take a shot and spills it completely down the front of himself, whining at the stain it leaves on his white shirt. johnny pays the bill and helps drag a stumbling mark back out into the van they have waiting for them outside. taeyong hangs back with jaehyun, forcing a small smile when jaehyun brushes their fingers together as they climb into the back seat.

mark passes out almost immediately, and johnny leans his head against the headrest and closes his own eyes. it’s about as alone as he and jaehyun are going to get, so taeyong clears his throat, and nudges jaehyun with his knee. 

“yeah, hyung?” jaehyun murmurs. 

taeyong swallows, unsure of how he should start, how he should phrase his question as not to seem like he’s prying into jaehyun’s business, like he’s not doing the same exact thing that he snapped at jaehyun for only a few days ago. he picks at a thread from the hole in the knee of his jeans, and, before he can lose his nerve, says, “you took the shot.”

“huh?” jaehyun asks, eyebrows pulling together. “what do you mean?”

taeyong sucks in a breath. “in the game, when i went for johnny about hooking up with a bandmate. you - you took a shot, too.”

jaehyun doesn’t answer right away, and the tension that suddenly rolls in between them, thick like a choking smog, forces taeyong’s eyes away from his knees and up to jaehyun’s face. jaehyun is staring at him, a look in his eyes that taeyong can’t decipher, and it makes him uneasy. “jae -”

“yuta,” jaehyun says. “it was yuta.”

taeyong flounders. “yuta?” he squeaks. “but when?”

jaehyun shrugs. “couple days ago,” he says, and taeyong tries his best to ignore the way that makes him feel like someone just punched him in the stomach. 

“you - you didn’t tell me about it,” taeyong says, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice.

jaehyun’s face suddenly goes hard, lips mashing together in an angry line. “thought we weren’t talking about sex things. making sure we don’t overstep, right?”

the words make taeyong burn, leave him itchy and uncomfortable. he thought they were  _ over _ this, thought it was said and done and they were okay, but apparently, taeyong thought wrong.

“jae,” taeyong feels like he’s had the wind knocked out of him. “i told you -”

“you’re not ready to talk about it, yeah,” jaehyun says, voice dripping with condescension. “maybe i’m not ready to talk about yuta.”

“it’s - it’s not the  _ same, _ jae,” taeyong says, skin itching. “mine’s not just a sex thing. it’s  _ more _ than that, okay? and i’m not talking about it, so  _ please _ stop trying.”

“tae -” jaehyun starts, deflating in the presence of taeyong’s pleading. 

“no,” taeyong says, feeling so tired with it. “i’m done talking about it. i never wanted anyone to know in the first place, and it sucks that you know now, so you just - please leave it alone _. _ ”

shockingly enough, jaehyun does just that. he turns away from taeyong - as far as he can get considering he and taeyong are sitting next to each other in the back seat of a van. the tension makes taeyong feel hot and cold at the same time, still angry that jaehyun just won’t  _ leave it alone, _ cold because he hates feeling like he and jaehyun are fighting, like there’s an ocean between them instead of just a center seat and seatbelt buckles. 

the rest of the ride back to the dorm is silent, taeyong trying with every fiber of his being to ignore jaehyun’s presence beside him, the way it makes his skin crawl. he doesn’t want to be mad at jaehyun, doesn’t want to feel like he’s alone in a van full of his best friends, but yet here he sits, hands folded in his lap and eyes downcast, fighting against the tightness curling up in the pit of his stomach.

jaehyun nearly sprints into the dorm when they get there, and taeyong pretends it doesn’t hurt when he hears the door of jaehyun’s bedroom slam closed behind him. the dorm is dark, the rest of the members having gone to sleep, johnny dragging a half-asleep mark into his own room and staying there. taeyong pads slowly into his own room, pleased to have it to himself for the night, just so he doesn’t have to face anyone else. 

taeyong sits down on the edge of his bed, deflated. he feels -  _ heavy. _ like his limbs are twice their normal size and made entirely of lead, and it makes him  _ tired. _ he falls back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what the hell he did in a past life to have been reborn as someone like this.

he wonders if it’d be impacting him so much, to know that jaehyun is angry with him, that he went and hooked up with yuta  _ because _ he was upset with him, if taeyong didn’t have such a giant, embarrassing crush on jaehyun in the first place. 

that’s why, he thinks. why he feels so out of sorts that it had to be  _ jaehyun _ who caught him,  _ jaehyun _ who won’t stop pressing him to explain something he hasn’t really even sat down and explained fully to himself. if it had been johnny, or dongyoung, or yuta, even, taeyong would have been able to brush it off and ask them to keep it a secret and they  _ would have, _ without asking taeyong any more questions than he was willing to answer, and taeyong wouldn’t be left wondering where he went so wrong.

it’s like a storm is brewing inside of him, tumultuous and destructive. he doesn’t want jaehyun to be upset, but at the same time he feels like jaehyun doesn’t even have the  _ right _ to be upset in the first place, because this is taeyong’s secret, and it’s his to decide whether or not he’s going to tell. 

he feels haunted, like there’s something hovering over him that he can’t see or hear or feel, but  _ knows _ is there, sure as anything. he thinks of the set buried in his nightstand drawer again, that still sits there buried like a dirty secret because he didn’t have the nerve to take it out last night. his pretty, expensive set, tossed in with the shit he couldn’t care less about. he heaves himself up from the bed, limbs still feeling heavy and sluggish, and makes his way over to the nightstand. he opens the drawer and digs through it, until he finds the bundle of satin and mesh at the bottom, and pulls it out. 

it’s wrinkled and creased, and there’s a tiny tear in the lace from where taeyong had been so hasty to take it off. the sight of it makes taeyong’s eyes go misty, and he feels stupid, so stupid, for tearing up over lingerie, of all things. but there’s just something about seeing this set, his most expensive, his prettiest, torn up and treated like trash, that makes taeyong feel like there’s a hand around his heart and lungs, squeezing until he thinks he’s going to suffocate. 

he lays the set out on the floor, running his fingers over the creases and trying his best to smooth them out. the torn lace overlay is lifting from the mesh of the garter belt, a tiny hole where taeyong had torn it away in his haste. he thumbs at the tear gently, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

slowly, methodically, taeyong folds the garter, panties, and stockings into a tight little square, gets up and pads over to the drawer tucked into the back of his closet, and places the set back where it belongs, amongst the pile of others, lace and satin and silk blurring together until taeyong can’t distinguish one of them from the other anymore.

taeyong lets out a shuddery breath, closing the drawer and the closet behind him, making his way into the bathroom to wash his face, so he can finally let his exhausted body sleep. he stares at his own face in the mirror for a few minutes, running his fingers over his skin, his eyebrows, his nose, his lips, his stubbly chin, and wonders, not for the first time, how his life would be if he’d simply been born different, without these desires that he has to hide because the rest of the world views them as a perversion, when all taeyong wants is to feel at home in his own body.

taeyong sighs, dropping his eyes from his reflection and grabs his makeup remover and face wash, trying to scrub away his ill feelings alongside the oil and dirt.

after, he curls up in his bed, yanking his blankets up over his head to try to shut out the moonlight leaking in through his blinds, and the sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. 

x

for as tense as it is between jaehyun and taeyong for the next few days, taeyong manages to make it through their schedules, sticking close to johnny and dongyoung, and brushing off johnny’s concerned inquiries into the reasons why taeyong’s looking more and more uneasy lately. taeyong assures johnny that it’s nothing, that he just has a mild case of insomnia but he’s taking care of it, has sleeping pills coming to make sure that he’s in perfect shape for the comeback. 

johnny regards him warily but leaves him be, settling for watching over taeyong from closely as they travel from music shows to interviews, running themselves so ragged that by the time they make it back to their dorm or the hotel, they’re too exhausted to do anything but sleep.

taeyong hasn’t spoken to jaehyun in three days. they’ve run into each other a few times, of course they have, and jaehyun looks like he wants to say something, but every time. instead of speaking, he turns on his heel and leaves the room, expression clouded. 

it hurts, it fucking  _ hurts _ to be fighting with jaehyun like this, but even more so because jaehyun couldn’t respect taeyong and his privacy enough to leave well enough alone when taeyong asked him to. it feels too final, like they’ll never be able to come back from this unless taeyong gives in and spills everything to jaehyun, and it’s not  _ fair. _ jaehyun’s not being fair, and that’s the worst part, because taeyong feels like jaehyun never actually cared about him in the first place if he’s letting something like this tear their entire friendship apart. 

a knock on his hotel room door startles taeyong out from his reverie, where he’s hunched over on his bed, scrolling through the last text conversation he and jaehyun had, searching for hints, for signs of weakness in their relationship. when taeyong doesn’t answer, the person knocks again, and finally taeyong gets up from the bed, padding over to the door and looking through the peephole. to his confusion, there’s nobody outside his door, no sign of the person who knocked besides a small, nondescript baby pink box. taeyong cracks the door open, wary but curious. 

the box sits a little ways away from the door, like whoever left it there knew taeyong wouldn’t answer the door, and wanted the box to be visible from the peephole. there’s no label on the box, nothing to tell taeyong who left it or where it could have come from except for a small piece of cardstock on top, with his name written on it.

gingerly, taeyong picks the box up, and brings it inside the room. he gives it a small shake, flinching with expectation, but nothing shatters or explodes - there’s no sound at all, actually - so taeyong figures it’s safe enough. 

taeyong brings the box to his bed and sits down, setting it on the duvet. he drags his fingers over the top of it, grabbing the little cardstock and flipping it over. the other side is blank, still no more indication of where the box came from. he tosses the card aside, hesitating, unsure if he wants to open the box at all. 

in the end, his curiosity wins out over his sense of self-preservation, so taeyong grips the lid and slides it open, burning to see what’s inside.

the lid comes off, and taeyong’s brow furrows. whatever’s inside is covered with tissue paper, a deep coal black color that somehow shimmers even under the shitty hotel room lights. it looks expensive, and taeyong pauses again, wondering why this package, of all things, was left outside his door with no explanation. 

taeyong picks off the pink sticker holding the tissue paper together, and very carefully begins to pull it away to reveal what’s hidden inside. the layers seem unending, like whoever left the box wanted to make taeyong work for it. 

he can see through the tissue paper now at least, can see the deep black color of whatever it is that’s nestled in the bottom of the box. even more curious now, taeyong rips the rest of the tissue paper away, breath catching as he sees what’s inside.

his hands shake as he picks it up.

he doesn’t know how he didn’t notice before, didn’t notice the similar boxes, the expensive tissue paper, the way it was wrapped. he reveled in that packaging when he had ordered from the same place, when he’d taken it apart piece by piece to get to the treasure inside.

his favorite set, satin, mesh, and lace, came in this same packaging. the same packaging that now holds another, black and lacey, green and gold floral appliques decorating the sheer cups of the bra in his hands, the lining of the garter belt and panties still inside the box.

it’s beautiful, soft, dainty, absolutely gorgeous, and taeyong is  _ furious. _

he burns, feeling himself go hot with anger. for  _ days _ jaehyun ignored him, made him wallow and debate over and over if he should just swallow his pride and apologize, let jaehyun in on his reasons for why he does what he does, and now here he sits, with a box full of lingerie in his lap that jaehyun bought and delivered to his door just to  _ mock _ him.

taeyong throws the bra down, jumping down from the bed, a single-minded purpose as he throws the door open and storms down the hall. jaehyun’s rooming with dongyoung, just a few rooms down, and once taeyong is standing outside, he lifts his fist and pounds furiously on the door. he waits a few moments with no answer, and then knocks again. 

this time, a couple seconds later, the door swings open, answered by a pissed-looking, bleary-eyed dongyoung. “jaehyun,” taeyong hisses, and the venom in his voice is enough to get dongyoung to step back, eyes wide, so taeyong can peer inside the room and catch sight of jaehyun, sitting on his bed and watching taeyong with wide eyes. taeyong stares him down, just long enough for jaehyun to get the message, before he turns on his heel and stalks off back the way he came, into his own room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

he sits on his bed, waiting for only a moment before jaehyun comes in, head down and shoulders up near his ears, defensive. he closes the door behind himself. 

“hyung?” jaehyun begins, playing dumb like he doesn’t know what the problem is, and god, taeyong’s blood boils. 

“ _ hyung? _ that’s all you have to say for yourself?” taeyong says. 

“i - i don’t -” jaehyun sputters, and it just makes taeyong angrier, watching him try to come up with a way to explain away what he did.

taeyong’s veins run hot, almost exploding as he picks up the box from the bed, the set still inside, and throws it as hard as he can at jaehyun, satisfied in the way jaehyun flinches, arms coming up to prevent the box from hitting him in the face. 

still fuming, taeyong sits back on the bed, waiting. jaehyun drops his arms and looks at the box on the floor, the lingerie spilling out of it. “taeyong, i -”

“why would you do that to me?” taeyong asks, voice breaking and betraying the layer of  _ hurt _ behind his anger. “what did i do?”

“hyung, i swear, it’s not what you think -”

“what  _ is  _ it then, jaehyun?” taeyong asks, straining now against the messy tears that sting behind his eyes. “you go  _ days _ without talking to me, and then suddenly you’re leaving  _ that _ for me? did it make you feel better, to mock me like that?”

jaehyun goes wide eyed, stepping forward, stopping only when he sees the way taeyong cringes away. “please, hyung, that’s not it. that’s not why i gave it to you,” jaehyun says. his voice cracks and taeyong looks up. 

for the first time in days, taeyong really looks at jaehyun, at the expression on his face, finally readable. he looks open, earnest, and  _ honest _ , hands held like he wants desperately to reach out and touch taeyong, run his fingers through his hair and pull taeyong close, if only taeyong will let him.  

“then why? i don’t understand,” taeyong says, voice meek as his anger floods out of him, and all he’s left with is the chill of uncertainty that makes his blood run like ice. 

jaehyun sighs, shoulders dropping. “can i sit?” he asks.

taeyong doesn’t say anything, just scoots over on the bed to make room for jaehyun next to him. jaehyun climbs up and sits with his legs crossed under him, bumping his knee against taeyong’s. 

as much as taeyong hates to admit it, given the circumstance, being close to jaehyun again feels  _ good. _ he missed the proximity, missed the way that feeling jaehyun’s skin against his, smelling his scent, soothes him, makes him breathe a little easier, feel a little lighter. 

so when jaehyun offers his hand, palm up, an invitation, taeyong accepts. he places his palm against jaehyun’s and weaves their fingers together, squeezes once.

“i was stupid,” jaehyun says. “and i’m sorry for that. i went about this all the wrong way.”

“what do you mean?” taeyong asks. 

jaehyun sighs, licking over his lips. “i couldn’t figure it out, at first,” he says. “why it made me so upset that you didn’t want to tell me about the - the  _ dressing up. _ i was so mad, and i didn’t know  _ why,  _ and then i tried to make you as mad as i was by going and hooking up with yuta. which was  _ so _ fucking stupid, by the way. worst handjob of my life.”

taeyong breathes a small laugh, feeling a little more at ease now that jaehyun’s started talking, started explaining. 

“anyways,” jaehyun continues, “the more i thought about it, the more i started to realize why i was so caught up about it. and i just, i don’t know. i think i was so upset by it because here’s this huge secret that you’ve been keeping, that somehow i found out about, and i felt so - so  _ important,  _ in that moment, as stupid as it sounds. i remember thinking like, ‘now this is  _ our _ secret. now he can share this with me.’ and i guess i was foolish to think that you’d  _ want _ to share it with me. you had no reason to, and i didn’t get that.”

“jae,” taeyong breathes, squeezing jaehyun’s hand. 

“and i guess i bought the - the set because i wanted you to know that i was still on your side, even if you didn’t want me to be,” jaehyun says. he drops his eyes to the ugly hotel duvet, free hand picking at a loose thread. 

the silence that falls after jaehyun finishes talking is ripe with questions still left unanswered, things still left unsaid, but taeyong finally, finally feels better than he did even before this all started. taeyong purses his lips, running over in his head the dozens of things he wants to say, but what he settles on is, “the set is beautiful.”

jaehyun’s eyes flicker up from the duvet back to taeyong’s face. they’re wide, like jaehyun can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, like someone has just told him his deepest fantasies were coming true, and all he had to do was sit there and watch them unfold. “you - you like it?”

taeyong nods, smiling softly. “i like it,” he says. “it’s pretty.”

jaehyun purses his lips, hesitating for a moment before he asks, “is - is that why? why you, um, why you wear them? because they’re pretty?”

taeyong sucks in a sharp little breath. instead of answering out loud, he just nods. 

“oh,” jaehyun murmurs. “i um, did some research, y’know? when you said it wasn’t a sex thing, but you still wouldn’t tell me any more. i got curious, and, uh, some of the sites i found said that sometimes, people dress up because they l-like the way the clothes look, or feel -”

“or make them feel,” taeyong finishes. 

“yeah,” jaehyun breathes. 

“it’s right,” taeyong says. “about me, at least.”

“oh,” jaehyun says. “so, um, it’s different, then? from just dressing up nicely, like we do for award shows, and stuff?”

taeyong nods. “mmm,” he hums. “it’s hard to explain.”

“you don’t have to,” jaehyun murmurs.

“no, it’s okay,” taeyong says. he clears his throat, fidgeting a little before he continues. “i haven’t really thought about it like that before, but, um, the way that wearing something like that makes me feel  _ is _ different from dressing up for award shows and stuff. when i’m dressed for the stage, i feel handsome, and powerful, like i’m on top of the world. when i wear the other stuff, stockings and p-panties, i feel,” taeyong pauses, steeling himself. he’s never said these words out loud before, and it feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff right now, about to say them out loud to jaehyun. “i feel soft. i feel - pretty. i-i like that. i like feeling that way sometimes.”

when he was little, taeyong used to think that he had the power to move the clouds. he would lay outside for hours, staring up at the sky and watching the way the clouds travelled across it, skating through the atmosphere and falling off the horizon, over and over again. he remembers asking his mother about it, asking her where in the world the clouds were off to so quickly, remembers how his mother patted him on the head and told him he must be special, because the clouds never moved like that for her. 

years later, he knows his mother was playing with him, but he remembers how strong it made him feel, how powerful, to think that it was his own will that forced the clouds across the sky, that sent them travelling around the world to see things that taeyong could only dream of seeing for himself. 

he wishes he had someone here now to make him feel like that again, as he sits under the scrutiny of jaehyun’s gaze and waits for the words jaehyun is going to say. 

“that’s - that’s all?” jaehyun says, and taeyong doesn’t know what he expected jaehyun to say, but that is not it. 

“‘that’s all’? what does that even  _ mean? _ ” taeyong says, moving to pull his hand from jaehyun’s grip.

“sorry, i’m sorry,” jaehyun backtracks, pulling taeyong’s hand back. “i didn’t mean it like that. what i’m trying to say is that i get it. i mean, i don’t  _ get it, _ but i understand. and i’m glad you finally told me.”

sighing, taeyong lets himself deflate, all of the defensiveness flooding out of his body. he leans into jaehyun, resting his head on jaehyun’s shoulder. “thank you,” he says. 

“for what?” jaehyun asks. he pulls his hand from taeyong’s to run his fingers through taeyong’s hair, and taeyong hums contentedly. 

“for listening,” taeyong says. “and for - for the set. it’s beautiful, really. i can’t wait to try it on.”

jaehyun goes stiff, for only a fraction of a second before he relaxes again, but taeyong feels it anyways. “jae?” he asks. “you okay?”

“yeah, yeah,” jaehyun says, voice sounding a little too strained to be natural. “i’m fine. it’s good.”

taeyong sits up, moving so he can sit face to face with jaehyun. “do you not want me to wear it?” he asks, voice low as he eyes jaehyun’s expression.

“no, no!” jaehyun exclaims, “i mean, yes. yes, i do want you to wear it. that’s - that’s why i bought it, so you could wear it. i just, um,” jaehyun pauses again, looking at everything in the room besides taeyong.

ah.

taeyong gets it.

“you want me to wear it for you,” taeyong says. 

jaehyun flushes. “you don’t have to,” jaehyun says.

“i know,” taeyong murmurs. he inches closer, so close now that he can almost see jaehyun’s pores, can see the lash that’s fallen onto the apex of jaehyun’s cheek, right over the tiny little freckles that fall like stardust over jaehyun’s skin. “but what if i want to?”

“do you want to?” jaehyun breathes. taeyong can feel it on his lips. 

taeyong breathes in, breathes out, stares at jaehyun’s mouth as he sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, and  _ god, _ taeyong wants jaehyun to kiss him. 

_ kiss me, _ he thinks.

_ kiss me, and i’ll say yes. _

he knows jaehyun can feel it, the way taeyong’s body is rapt at attention, the way he tenses when jaehyun releases his bottom lip, breathing shakily at the sight of it, swollen and slick. he’s scared, taeyong thinks, scared that he’ll overstep again, push too far and ruin the delicate truce he and taeyong have come to. “it’s okay,” taeyong breathes.

that’s all it takes.

jaehyun surges up, winding one hand in taeyong’s hair as he crushes their mouths together.

taeyong thought kissing jaehyun would be gentle, reverent. that maybe jaehyun would be timid, shy, that he would let taeyong take the lead until he got his bearings, but even then, he’d lead with a soft hand. but oh, he was wrong. 

jaehyun kisses like he’s trying to eat taeyong alive, and god, taeyong loves it. jaehyun’s got one hand in his hair and the other on his throat, tilting his jaw the way he wants it. barely a second has passed and taeyong is putty in jaehyun’s hands, legs feeling like jelly even as he’s sitting down. he feels so small.

the kiss breaks and taeyong gasps, head spinning. he feels fuzzy, a  _ good _ fuzzy, and the way that jaehyun is staring at him makes him feel like he’s stronger than the boy who thought he could move clouds. god, this taeyong could move  _ mountains. _

“is - is that a yes?” jaehyun asks, breathy. 

taeyong grins, feeling weightless and free in a way he hasn’t felt in what seems like  _ years. _

“it’s a yes,” taeyong says. jaehyun grins, wide and happy, and kisses taeyong again.

taeyong  _ soars. _

x

the last time taeyong was this nervous was nct u’s very first debut stage. he remembers cowering backstage, sweating through his outfit, crossing his legs as tight as he could because he felt like he might wet himself. he could hear the crowd, so many people there watching them, watching  _ him, _ eyes harsh and judging, waiting for the newbies to prove themselves, prove that they were worth the work that was put into them, worth being the ones who got to debut over the hundreds who tried but were never selected.

taeyong’s gotten better since then, at managing his nerves when he’s performing. he becomes someone else, switches off who he is to replace himself with another, going from lee taeyong, the soft, quiet boy from the gangnam district in seoul to  _ taeyong, _ face and leader of nct, fearless and captivating. 

it’s how he manages now, how he keeps himself from going out of his mind every time he steps on stage. he barely even gets nervous about performing anymore, confident in himself and his abilities, in the support of the other members around him, keeping him up and supporting him if he trips, making sure he doesn’t fall. 

_ god, _ how he wishes he had that kind of confidence right now. 

taeyong paces back and forth, stocking feet padding softly over the tiled bathroom floor. he catches sight of himself in the full length mirror, pausing for a moment to admire himself.

he looks beautiful, body wrapped in sheer lace and satin ribbon. the set jaehyun bought him fits  _ perfectly _ , hugging the curves he didn’t know he had, cupping him in all of the best places. 

he turns, admiring the cut of the panties over the swell of his bottom, the way the ruffled chantilly lace kisses his supple skin. the green and gold of the floral appliques looks so good against his creamy pallor, the black giving a naughty edge to an otherwise sweet and dainty set. 

the stockings he wears are black this time, sexy and sheer just like the rest of the set. the garter belt cinches tight around his waist, making him look even tinier. he knows jaehyun’s going to  _ love  _ that; he gets off on how small taeyong is, how he can throw him around and push him where he wants him, and he likes it even more because of how much  _ taeyong _ likes it. 

there’s one more piece, one that taeyong has never bought for himself before, always too afraid that it wouldn’t look right on him, flat chested man that he is. no matter how pretty he is, he’s never going to have the tits to fill out a bra, so he never thought to buy one whenever he picked up his other pretty little things. 

but right now, staring at the cut of the bralette against his chest, at the way his nipples peek through the sheer lace, the way the black ribbon cuts across his collarbones, he wishes he had. there’s a cute little black bow in between the two cups and taeyong runs his fingers over it, before he teases himself through the lace, making his nipples pebble up, pressing almost obscenely against the cups.

he looks good, so fucking  _ good, _ and he feels even  _ better. _ if this was one of his nights, one where he dressed up just for himself and lets himself feel pretty, he would be over the moon, elated to the point where he felt nearly intangible, like he’d float away if he was given the chance. 

but he can’t stop thinking about the fact that, just on the other side of the bathroom door, jaehyun is waiting for him, sitting on the hotel bed, imagining what taeyong’s going to look like when he finally steps into the room. 

taeyong shouldn’t be nervous. he  _ knows _ he shouldn’t be nervous. they’ve been waiting  _ months _ for this moment, when they could finally get a room to themselves and spend the weekend together, wrapped up around each other in carnal bliss. 

it’s not like this is the first time they’re going to have sex, either. after that first night, when jaehyun kissed taeyong and made his whole body tingle, taeyong could barely wait to get jaehyun naked, to touch his body and let jaehyun touch his. 

they’ve fucked already more times than taeyong can count; in the dorm on jaehyun’s bed, on taeyong’s bed, on  _ johnny’s _ bed. in the kitchen, on the table, in the bathroom, on the sink, in the shower. taeyong sucked jaehyun’s cock for the first time in the back of the bus, after a late night schedule when everyone else was asleep and the lights in the bus’ cabin were low. 

jaehyun gagged taeyong with his cock until taeyong was crying, shaking and coming in his pants at the mere thought of one of the other members waking up and seeing taeyong choking on jaehyun’s cock, seeing how much taeyong  _ loved  _ it. 

taeyong’s been on his knees, hands tied behind his back, crying as he begged for jaehyun to slap him across the face, come in his mouth, call him a slut,  _ degrade _ him, but it’s the thought of walking out of the bathroom, letting jaehyun finally see the secret he’s been hiding for  _ years, _ that has taeyong feeling completely and utterly exposed. 

maybe it’s because it’s not just a sex thing. taeyong thinks he could handle it, if this was just a kink and he knew the moment he left the bathroom, he was going to get fucked into a stupor, screwed within an inch of his life. sex, taeyong can deal with. he likes sex. he likes having sex with jaehyun. but this? letting jaehyun in on one of the most intimate parts of who taeyong is? that scares him.

taeyong stares at his reflection in the mirror, thinking about the way he looks, the way he feels, and the way  _ jaehyun _ makes him feel. warm, safe, and happy. protected. they talked for days about this, before jaehyun made the reservations at the hotel, making sure over and over that this was something taeyong wanted to do, that jaehyun wasn’t pressuring him. taeyong assured him that  _ yes,  _ he wants this.  _ yes, _ he wants jaehyun to see him like this, pretty and made up, covered in delicate lace and satin, showing off his body like he rarely ever does because he loves the way he looks when he’s all dressed up, doe eyes and lithe frame like a doll’s. 

breathing in, taeyong lets his eyes fall closed. he thinks of jaehyun, perfect, sweet jaehyun that’s indulged every little fantasy taeyong has asked him to, has barely even batted an eye every time taeyong asked him to do something new, to degrade him in a different way, to fuck him harder and rougher and meaner. he thinks of the way jaehyun looks at him on the rare nights when taeyong wants it soft, when he wants to just lay there, on his back with his thighs spread, jaehyun between them, kissing gently over his skin as he screws him slow and easy. he thinks of the way jaehyun curls around him after, drawing gentle patterns over taeyong’s naked flesh with his fingers, confessing that taeyong makes him  _ crazy, _ in the absolute best kind of way. 

taeyong takes a deep breath. he steels himself, turns away from the mirror, padding over the bathroom floor. he rests his hand on the door handle, imagining jaehyun’s face, what he’ll say, how he’ll smile and tell taeyong that he looks  _ so pretty, _ asking him to  _ spin around for me baby. let me see it all. _ taeyong breathes in. he breathes out. 

he opens the door. 

jaehyun is sitting on the bed, legs over the side, leaning back on one hand and scrolling through his phone with the other when taeyong finally steps out of the bathroom. jaehyun hears the door open and looks up, eyes going wide. his phone falls from his hand.

taeyong stands still, just barely out of the bathroom, shifting his weight from foot to foot, unsure of what to do with his hands as he lets jaehyun drink him in. jaehyun doesn’t make him feel awkward for long, lurching up from the bed and striding over to taeyong. he stops just in front of him, breathing heavily. he reaches up and winds both hands in taeyong’s hair, pressing their foreheads together. 

“you look,” jaehyun says, pausing like he’s lost for words. he flounders for a moment, leaning back to take the sight of taeyong in again before he finishes his thought. “so fucking  _ pretty _ .”

taeyong sucks in a shaky breath. “yeah?” he says airily, rolling his shoulders back, arching to show himself off some more.

jaehyun lets his hands drop from taeyong’s hair, trailing them down taeyong’s body. he fingers over the lace, the satin ribbon, the mesh where taeyong’s nipples peek through. he drags his palm down taeyong’s abdomen, over the garter belt, and taeyong’s breath hitches when jaehyun’s fingers dance over the waistband of the panties, low across taeyong’s hips. 

“i worried they might be too small after i bought them,” jaehyun murmurs. “but they fit perfectly.”

taeyong flushes, heat rising to his cheeks at the shaded mention of his size. he knows jaehyun likes it, says it’s cute just like the rest of taeyong is, and taeyong likes to pretend that the flood of humiliation doesn’t make him go thick with desire. 

jaehyun drops his hand, dragging his fingers over taeyong’s thigh for only a moment. he steps back, enough so he can see taeyong in his entirety, and gives taeyong one long look, from head to toe, burning taeyong with the heat of his gaze.

“i knew it was going to look good,” jaehyun says, “but i didn’t know it would look  _ this _ good.”

heat rushes to taeyong’s cheeks. “you like it?”

jaehyun scoffs. “like it? taeyong, you look so fucking sexy. i almost had an aneurysm when you walked out.”

taeyong can’t help the way he giggles. “stop exaggerating,” he says.

“i’m not,” jaehyun says, almost too earnest. he licks his lips, appraises taeyong again before he murmurs, “will you turn around for me? i wanna see how it looks from the back.”

taeyong feels his face get hotter, and he knows he’s definitely flushed to his chest now. still, he turns so his back is facing jaehyun, slow so jaehyun can see every angle. he stops when he’s facing the way he came, swaying his hips a bit before he looks over his shoulder, biting his lip as he stares at jaehyun. 

jaehyun’s staring again, the look on his face caught somewhere between rapturous and ravenous. he looks like he’s looking into the face of god, but also like he wants to eat taeyong alive.

“jae,” taeyong starts, but doesn’t get the chance to finish. jaehyun’s suddenly crowding up behind him, pressing his chest to taeyong’s back, gripping taeyong’s ass hard with both hands. taeyong can’t help the little whimper he lets out, arching into jaehyun’s body. 

jaehyun shudders against him, dropping his forehead to rest on the curve of taeyong’s shoulder. he’s breathing heavy, mouthing at taeyong’s skin. “i know you said that this isn’t a sex thing,” jaehyun says, voice a gravelly murmur, “but i wanna fuck you  _ so bad _ right now.”

taeyong whimpers, pleasure zipping down his spine. jaehyun is kissing wetly over the back of taeyong’s neck, nosing up by his hairline, making goosebumps break out over his flesh. his lips drag over to taeyong’s ear, tonguing over the lobe. his voice is hot, viscous like honey and coated with desire as he murmurs, “will you let me fuck you, pretty baby?”

“ _ yes _ ,” taeyong whines, knees shaking. his whole body is thrumming, want flooding through his veins and making his toes curl. 

jaehyun presses impossibly closer, and taeyong can feel jaehyun getting thick against his lower back, swelling with arousal. his hands drift around to taeyong’s stomach, one teasing up his sternum, the other playing over the waistband of the panties, dipping inside and teasing against taeyong’s smooth skin. taeyong’s breath hitches as jaehyun’s hand delves deeper, fingers brushing just over where taeyong’s needy for him, getting wet where he’s pressed against the lace.

“ _ oh, _ ” taeyong moans, letting his head drop back when jaehyun finally takes him in hand. it should embarrass him, the way jaehyun’s hand covers him entirely, but feeling how small he is in jaehyun’s grip has taeyong’s cock twitching, and he gets wetter when jaehyun rubs his thumb over the tip, smearing it and making taeyong gasp. 

“ _ shit, _ you drive me crazy,” jaehyun groans. with his other hand, jaehyun rubs taeyong’s nipple through the bralette, making it pebble up and press obscenely against the mesh. “i wanna get you on your knees and fuck your pretty little mouth.”

taeyong mewls, thrusting into jaehyun’s grip. “please,” he begs. “please, let me suck your cock.”

jaehyun’s grip tightens for a just a moment, making taeyong dizzy with the way pleasure sings through his veins. every time he and jaehyun are like this, every time jaehyun gets his hands on taeyong’s body, taeyong thinks there’s nothing that will  _ ever _ feel as good as it does when jaehyun pushes taeyong onto his knees, pulls his cock out, and shoves it down taeyong’s throat.

taeyong gags, a nasty, wet sound that only makes taeyong harder, makes him moan around jaehyun’s cock and suck him harder, squirming on his knees and rutting hard against nothing. jaehyun groans, winds a hand into taeyong’s hair and holds him down, fucking into his mouth like it’s the only thing in the world he’s ever wanted. 

getting his mouth fucked has always been something taeyong thoroughly enjoys, but he’s never loved it the way he loves it when it’s jaehyun between his lips, jaehyun with his hands in his hair and clouding all of his senses, making his eyes water and his throat burn, pleasure in the dirtiest form he can get it. 

one of jaehyun’s hands drops from taeyong’s hair, slipping under the strap of taeyong’s bralette. he pulls it away from taeyong’s shoulder, letting it snap back against his skin, and taeyong flinches away from the sharp pain, moaning at the tingle it sends all the way down to his fingertips. 

“you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” jaehyun moans, holding taeyong down just to hear the way he chokes around his cock, drool spilling past his lips and frothing up at the corners, messy. taeyong’s whole body tingles, loving the way jaehyun praises him, lets him know how good jaehyun thinks he is. “look so good like this.”

jaehyun pulls taeyong off, and taeyong coughs once he can breathe again, a gross mixture of saliva and jaehyun’s precome splattering down his chest. his shoulder still stings where jaehyun snapped the strap of the bralette against it, and he can feel a small red welt swelling up on his skin. another mark for taeyong to keep on his body, another reminder of how good jaehyun is to him, how he gives taeyong everything he wants and more, makes him feel better than anyone else ever has. 

jaehyun pets over taeyong’s face, smearing the mess on his mouth all over his face. taeyong sticks his tongue out and licks over jaehyun’s fingers, and jaehyun’s eyes go dark. he shoves his fingers into taeyong’s mouth and makes taeyong gag, another flood of saliva dripping over jaehyun’s knuckles. 

“pretty,” jaehyun mumbles again, almost thoughtlessly, as he pulls his fingers from taeyong’s mouth, pressing them into taeyong’s cheek. taeyong flushes from the praise.

taeyong moans, eyes closing as jaehyun’s hands get a bit rougher, pinching his cheek hard enough to make taeyong cry out, hips stuttering as pleasured pain floods his body and makes his toes curl. 

“get up,” jaehyun says, suddenly dropping his hand from taeyong’s face, tucking himself back into his sweatpants. taeyong whines at the loss, already missing the way jaehyun’s fingers felt pressed against the soft skin of his cheek. taeyong loves the way jaehyun treats him, mean like he doesn’t care about him at all, but the look in his eyes betraying how utterly fond he is of taeyong, how he cherishes him and his body more than he’s ever cherished anything else in his life. 

taeyong stumbles to his feet, realizing for the first time how hard he is, pushing against the delicate lace of his panties. he gets the sudden urge to cover himself, torn between wanting to show himself off and wanting to hide his shame, so needy already and jaehyun has barely even touched him yet. 

before taeyong can make a decision on whether he wants jaehyun to keep staring at him or not, jaehyun chooses for him, pressing close again as he tucks his fingers in the waistband of taeyong’s panties and yanks them down just far enough to free his cock, tucked snug up under his balls. taeyong whimpers, embarrassed and exposed, cock hard and leaking as jaehyun cups him between his thighs and walks him backwards, to the edge of the bed. 

jaehyun pushes taeyong down on the bed, standing at the foot of it and watching taeyong nestle into the covers, crossing his thighs in a sad excuse of modesty, considering the fact that jaehyun has already seen the most intimate parts of his body, and then some. jaehyun clicks his tongue when he sees the way taeyong’s trying to cover himself. “yonggie,” he says, tone edging on reprimanding, “why are you trying to hide?”

taeyong flushes, cheeks hot. “‘m not,” he lies. 

jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “oh no?” he says. “why don’t you spread yourself for me then, baby? let me see your pretty little cock.”

pleasure runs in a shudder down taeyong’s spine, cock leaking precome over his belly. he spreads his legs, just like jaehyun told him to, letting jaehyun see how hard he is, small and straining against the plush skin of his thigh. 

“mm,” jaehyun hums. “you look so pretty like this.”

taeyong flushes, cheeks hot with satisfaction. jaehyun’s eyes are dark as he crawls onto the bed, settling between taeyong’s spread legs. he runs his hands up taeyong’s smooth skin, over the sheer stockings, thumbing around where they press into the fleshiest part of taeyong’s thigh. he sticks his index finger under taeyong’s suspender, and taeyong’s breath hitches as jaehyun pulls it away, far enough that it strains where it’s clipped onto his stocking, pausing for a moment to let taeyong sweat before he releases it. it lands with a satisfying  _ smack, _ drawing up a sweet line of red in its path. 

the pain makes taeyong tingle, and he can’t help the desperate way he moans for more of jaehyun’s hands all over him. jaehyun noses up taeyong’s belly, his breath tickling over taeyong’s skin, raising goosebumps in his wake. he draws his hands up taeyong’s sides, dipping under the band of the bralette. “sit up for a second,” jaehyun murmurs and taeyong obeys, sitting up against the pillows. jaehyun grips the bralette and yanks it up over taeyong’s head, tossing it off to the side. the chill makes taeyong’s nipples pebble up, and he shivers when jaehyun brushes his thumbs over them. 

“jaehyun,” taeyong whines, pressing into jaehyun’s touch. 

“hmm,” jaehyun hums, sitting back on his heels and staring hungrily at taeyong’s body, naked save for the garter and stockings, his panties all bunched up under his cock. “roll over for me? i want to eat you out.”

taeyong whimpers, already imagining the feel of jaehyun’s velvet tongue against him, teasing and licking him open until he’s loose, pliant, and begging for it. 

taeyong rolls over, resting on his knees and propping himself up on his elbows, a pillow resting under his hips. he arches his back, showing off for jaehyun, drowning in the deep, predatory moan jaehyun lets out behind him. jaehyun runs his hands up the backs of taeyong’s thighs, teasing around the scalloped lace cupping his cheeks, skimming his fingers under it and brushing them dryly over the cleft of taeyong’s ass. taeyong groans, dropping his head and pushing his hips back into the touch. 

jaehyun leans in, nosing over taeyong’s ass, nipping the skin and making taeyong jump. he whimpers when jaehyun smacks the inside of his thigh and bites him again, soothing the mark with his tongue. taeyong whines, tingling with sensitivity. 

“please,” he whimpers, torn between pressing back against jaehyun’s mouth on his thighs or humping down against the pillow under his hips. jaehyun makes a reproachful noise, clicking in the back of his throat.

“now, now,” he hums, “you’re not getting greedy, are you?”

“no, no,” taeyong says, voice saturated with need. “i just - want you to touch me.”

“i  _ am _ touching you,” jaehyun says, licking over taeyong’s skin, just below where he panties hug his cheeks. “or is there something else you want?”

taeyong groans, frustrated and so, so turned on. he sometimes forgets how much jaehyun likes to tease him, likes to see taeyong squirm and make him needy enough that he starts to beg, maybe cry a little bit if jaehyun keeps it up long enough.

“y-you said,” taeyong starts, dropping his head and moaning, voice reedy. it takes him a moment to get his words back, body flooding with pleasure, running thick and syrupy through his veins. “you said you were g-gonna eat me out.”

jaehyun makes a cooing noise, tonguing the lace of taeyong’s panties. “i did say that, didn’t i?”

taeyong whines, right on the cusp of begging, until he feels jaehyun’s fingers hook under his panties, yanking them aside to expose taeyong’s hole, licking into it so suddenly that it makes taeyong’s eyes cross with pleasure and mouth fall open in a desperate mewl. 

his body writhes and he cries out, a desperate shout of jaehyun’s name. the way jaehyun has the panties pulled to the side as he pushes his tongue against the tight furl of taeyong’s hole has them pulling almost uncomfortably tight over taeyong’s cock. taeyong ruts against the pillow, trying to relieve the pressure, moaning when he feels how wet he is, smearing dirty all over the pillowcase.

jaehyun devours his body like a man deprived, spreading him with his thumbs and licking inside like it’s the last thing on this earth he’s ever going to get to do. taeyong thinks he’d like that, if the world were to end right in this very moment, and he got to die with jaehyun’s tongue in his ass, humping desperately against a hotel pillow.

the pleasure lancing up taeyong’s spine with every touch of jaehyun’s mouth to his most intimate places has taeyong’s body going heavy with need, cock drooling a steady stream of precome. the panties are going to be absolutely ruined, but taeyong can’t seem to find it in him to care, not with the way jaehyun hooks his thumb in with his tongue, pulling taeyong open and spitting right in his hole, making him even slicker inside than he already is.

god, that’s fucking  _ dirty, _ the way taeyong can feel jaehyun spit inside him, but if jaehyun knows anything, he knows that taeyong likes it that way, likes when jaehyun plays with his body and toes the delicate line just before he crosses into  _ too nasty. _ he always takes it just far enough, to make taeyong nearly crazy with pleasure while still staying well within taeyong’s boundaries.

jaehyun plays his body like he’s studied it for years, not just the few months that he’s been fucking taeyong on the regular. he pushes his fingers into taeyong’s body like he owns it, spreads them and licks in between just because he likes the way that it makes taeyong’s body shake. 

“fuck, baby,” jaehyun groans, pulling his tongue out of taeyong’s hole just enough to get his fingers inside, sinking two at once and making taeyong choke, struggling to breathe against the onslaught of stinging pleasure-pain. “you taste so good, got me so hard.” 

taeyong mewls, pushing back into jaehyun’s thrusting fingers. jaehyun crooks them hard against taeyong’s prostate and taeyong shouts, head falling forward to bury his face in the mattress. his arms shake where he holds himself up on his elbows, and he’s not sure how long he can stay like this, so overwhelmed with pleasure that all he wants to do is fall limp into the bed and let jaehyun have his way with his body. 

jaehyun delves back in, slicker and wetter now that he’s got two fingers in alongside his tongue. taeyong’s arms finally give out and he falls chest first into the bed, moaning his rapture into the ugly sheets. 

jaehyun absolutely abuses his prostate, rubbing over it so hard it’s almost mean, just the way taeyong likes it. he feels his orgasm starting to curl hot and heavy in his belly, and he starts to gasp, hips twitching away from jaehyun’s touch because jaehyun hasn’t given him permission to come yet, and he’s been so good. he doesn’t want it to end yet.

“yonggie,” jaehyun murmurs, breath fanning hot over taeyong’s hole. “why’re you trying to get away, baby?”

taeyong moans, a pathetic little sound. “feel like ‘m gonna come,” he says, words slurred. 

“oh yeah?” jaehyun says. he fucks his fingers against taeyong’s prostate again and taeyong jerks, cock drooling more precome to add to the obscene puddle that’s already staining the pillow under his hips.

“jae, i  _ can’t, _ i’m -” taeyong says, overwhelmed and unable to stop the desperate way he humps against the pillow, smearing his cock in his own wetness. 

“yeah, baby,” jaehyun groans, nosing over taeyong’s ass, “let me see you fucking come.”

with that, jaehyun jabs his fingers into taeyong’s prostate again, pushing his tongue in between them, sucking on taeyong’s rim and licking into him as deeply as he can. taeyong chokes on a sob, and before he knows it, he’s rutting down hard against the pillow, unable to control the way his body chases its pleasure until he’s spilling hot and wet all over himself, moaning brokenly through his climax.

jaehyun works him through the shocks of pleasure, pulling his fingers out and kissing sweetly around taeyong’s hole until taeyong’s thighs stop shaking. “fuck,” jaehyun says. “you look so pretty when you come.”

taeyong mewls weakly, body feeling like jelly, like his limbs have detached at the joints. it’s not an unpleasant feeling, and taeyong basks in his afterglow. 

he only gets a moment, though, before jaehyun is grabbing his hips, hard and bruising, and throwing him roughly onto his back. taeyong squeals, surprised by the rough treatment and the way jaehyun rips his panties down his legs, pulling his legs open almost violently. 

jaehyun shoves a hand down his pants and pulls his cock out, stroking himself a few times just to let taeyong see how thick and hard he is. he’s so much bigger than taeyong is, and the humiliation makes taeyong’s pathetic cock twitch. jaehyun notices and gives taeyong a nasty smile, mean in his face but not his eyes as he says, “‘s’what a real cock looks like, baby. nothing like the disappointment you’ve got between your legs.”

taeyong feels his face go red with shame. he’d feel worse if he didn’t know that jaehyun’s just playing for the sake of the humiliation, and that he absolutely adores every part of taeyong, little cock included. taeyong’s absolute favorite thing - aside from the sex - is when they’re sleeping, cuddled together, and jaehyun has his hand between taeyong’s legs, cupped over his cock. it makes taeyong feel simultaneously owned and protected, and jaehyun loves how he can feel all of taeyong in one hand, nestled against his palm. 

taeyong whines, high in his throat. he’s still spread wide open, and it’s embarrassing to see how much he came, how much precome he’d leaked, his release smeared over his tummy. 

jaehyun grabs taeyong’s legs and throws them over his hips, pushing his sweatpants down over his ass once he’s got taeyong’s body where he wants it. taeyong’s still shaking a bit from his orgasm, and every brush of jaehyun’s hands on his skin feels just the right side of too much. his cock is sad and limp where it rests against his thigh, rosy pink and covered in come. 

“what d’you think, baby?” jaehyun asks, and taeyong watches him with blurry eyes as he grips his cock in hand, stroking roughly, realizing that jaehyun’s been speaking to him.

“huh?” taeyong mumbles, nearly flinching away at the barely-there brush of jaehyun’s fingers through the come drying under his navel.

“i  _ said, _ ” jaehyun repeats, annoyance seeping into his tone, “since you came, it’s only fair that i get to come now too, hmm?”

“‘s fair,” taeyong agrees, lost in the way jaehyun’s body looks as he leans over to the bedside table to grab the lube, popping the cap open and squeezing some right onto the head of his cock, hissing and twitching at the sudden coolness. he smears the lube over his length and taeyong’s mouth goes dry.

he’s so sensitive, post-orgasm body like a live-wire as jaehyun presses the tip of his cock to taeyong’s hole. he doesn’t push in, just rests there, drawing his cockhead over taeyong’s entrance in lazy, maddening circles. taeyong’s thighs twitch with every tight pass.

finally,  _ finally, _ jaehyun takes mercy on taeyong and fucks inside, bottoming out in one long, steady thrust, the way taeyong likes it. 

“mmm, fuck,” jaehyun moans. he leans back on his heels, thumb brushing around where he and taeyong are connected, rubbing over the reddened stretch of taeyong’s hole. the touch makes taeyong jerk again, and his spent cock gives a painful twitch, trying to get hard again but still so, so sensitive.

jaehyun’s first few thrusts are gentle, opening up taeyong’s body in the way his fingers hadn’t, but it only takes a couple minutes until taeyong’s gone perfectly lax, body opening up for jaehyun’s cock like it always does, like it was made for jaehyun to fuck, to stay buried inside and never leave. 

“feel so good, baby,” jaehyun groans, leaning over taeyong’s body so his lips brush taeyong’s ear. “so pretty for me, such a perfect little fuck hole.”

_ oh god, _ taeyong thinks, eyes rolling back in pleasure. he’s so grateful to jaehyun - perfect,  _ perfect _ jaehyun - who somehow managed to figure out every single kink taeyong had without taeyong even having to tell him, reading taeyong’s body and his reactions to the words that came out of jaehyun’s mouth expose taeyong in every way he possibly could, opening him like a book. 

one of the things he loves, absolutely can’t get enough of, is when jaehyun uses his body for nothing but his own pleasure, happy to be able to make jaehyun feel good, to make him come, and have jaehyun tell him he’s perfect while he’s screwing him like he doesn’t care.

the pleasure of it is tenfold now, laying on this hotel bed while jaehyun fucks him so good his vision is blurry, dressed in the set that jaehyun bought him. taeyong feels pretty and perfect and  _ owned _ , happy to lay limp and let jaehyun take what he wants, fucking his ass raw and leaving him sloppy and open. 

jaehyun’s thrusts start to lose their rhythm, and taeyong knows he’s going to come soon. taeyong clenches his fucked little bottom around jaehyun’s cock, and jaehyun groans long and low, licking over taeyong’s adam’s apple. he presses close, chest brushing taeyong’s, and props himself up on one elbow held next to taeyong’s head while the other pushes between their bodies, and taeyong knows what jaehyun is going for before he even does it.

it hurts when jaehyun wraps his hand around taeyong’s still-spent, sensitive cock, and taeyong cries out at the spark of pleasure-pain it sends reeling up his spine. his hips twitch, trying to get away, and taeyong shouts when jaehyun tightens his grip, jerking taeyong’s little cock rough and hard. “no, no,” taeyong whines, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes at how  _ good _ it feels and how bad it hurts, all at the same time. he tries to bat jaehyun’s hand away from his cock, but his attempts are so feeble that jaehyun doesn’t even pay him any mind. “hurts, jae, please stop.”

“don’t you wanna come again for me, baby?” jaehyun murmurs, slowing his thrusts as he squeezes taeyong tighter, thumbing over the head of his cock. taeyong’s tears spill over, running hot over his temples and into his hair. jaehyun groans when he sees it, chasing the trail with his tongue. 

jaehyun picks up his thrusts again, hard and rough. the sound of his thighs against taeyong’s fuckedbottom are absolutely obscene, wet and dirty. “c’mon, c’mon,” jaehyun murmurs, fisting taeyong’s cock until taeyong’s finally hard again, cock straining, a pretty cherry red. “that’s it,” he says, nosing over so he can give taeyong a kiss, nipping against his top lip. “come again for me baby, and i’ll fill you up, just the way you like it.”

taeyong chokes on a sob, thinking about jaehyun coming inside him, hot and wet. jaehyun likes to watch the way it drips down taeyong’s thighs after he pulls out, scooping it up on his fingers and pressing it back inside. sometimes, jaehyun will chase the pearly trails with his mouth, licking it out of taeyong’s body like he’s starving for it. 

“please, please,” taeyong begs, thrusting into the hand jaehyun has wrapped tight around his cock. he can feel his orgasm creeping up on him already, so sensitive that it’s not going to take long at all for jaehyun to make him come again.

jaehyun squeezes taeyong’s cock hard, shifts his hips to fuck his own cock straight into taeyong’s prostate, and taeyong’s orgasm hits him so hard that his vision goes black. his head lolls to the side and his legs go completely limp around jaehyun’s waist.

when taeyong comes to, only a few moments later, jaehyun’s fucking into him so hard that it’s shunting him up the bed, and taeyong’s saved from whacking his head against the headboard by the bundle of pillows bunched up above him. 

jaehyun’s hips stutter, and he fucks inside one, two, three more times before he presses in as deep as he can get and  _ comes, _ hot and wet inside taeyong’s body. taeyong whines as he feels jaehyun’s release inside him, eyes rolling back as another wave of pleasure floods through him. 

jaehyun rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm inside taeyong’s body, pulling out only when his cock has gone almost completely soft. taeyong moans when he feels jaehyun’s release flood out after him, wet over taeyong’s ass and thighs.

“shit, you’re a mess,” jaehyun says, with a quirk to his lips and admiration in his eyes. “you look so pretty.”

taeyong flushes, pushing at jaehyun’s shoulder. “you ruined the panties,” taeyong mumbles.

jaehyun snorts. “oh, i did? maybe i’m remembering it wrong, but i’m pretty sure  _ you’re _ the one who leaked all over them.”

“shut up,” taeyong grumbles. he rolls over, ignoring the wet slide of his cheeks with jaehyun’s come between them. “go get me a towel so i can clean up.”

“so soon?” jaehyun asks. “you usually like to stay messy a little longer than this.”

taeyong hums. “yeah,” he says. “but i don’t want to get come on the stockings.”

jaehyun makes a noise, almost surprised, like he didn’t expect taeyong’s words. “oh, yeah,” he says, climbing off the bed and tucking himself back into his sweatpants. “i’ll go get you something.”

jaehyun ducks into the bathroom, grabbing the wash cloth from the towel rack and wetting it in the sink. taeyong watches him, fond.

“want me to -?” jaehyun asks, motioning to taeyong’s body with the cloth when he comes back. 

“mmm,” taeyong hums, crossing his arms and propping his chin on them, spreading his legs a bit. “just don’t tease. ‘m still sensitive.”

jaehyun makes a low noise, settling on the bed and spreading taeyong’s thighs a little further, so he can clean between them. he tosses the cloth on the nightstand when he’s done, and taeyong sits up so he can start undressing, popping the clip on the suspenders so he can roll the stockings down his legs.

he feels the heat of jaehyun’s gaze on him as he undresses, and once he’s gotten the stockings off and unclipped the garter belt, he turns to jaehyun, cocking his head in question.

“i don’t know when you look prettier,” jaehyun says. “when you’re wearing the set, or when you’re taking it off.”

taeyong flushes, dropping his eyes and trying to hide the lift of his lips, busying himself with grabbing the bralette and panties where they lay on the floor, and folding them up with the garter and stockings. 

he makes his way over to his overnight bag, tucking the set into a satin carrying pouch, and pulling out a pair of soft worn cotton boxer briefs. he slips them up over his hips and then grabs one of jaehyun’s shirts, throwing it on. it’s much too large on him, covering him to mid-thigh and dropping over his shoulder. when he turns around, jaehyun’s staring at him, hunger in his eyes. god, if taeyong didn’t feel so spent, that look would be getting him hard again.

“c’mere,” jaehyun murmurs, patting the bed next to where he’s laid on his side, open and waiting. 

taeyong pads over to him, climbing in bed and snuggling into jaehyun’s chest. jaehyun wraps one arm around taeyong’s waist, the other under his neck, hand petting through taeyong’s hair.

they lay in silence for a few moments, taeyong matching his breathing to jaehyun’s, lulled by jaehyun’s heartbeat. “thank you,” he says, after a few quiet moments.

“hmm?” jaehyun hums, lethargy thick in his voice.

“thank you,” taeyong says again, and jaehyun rumbles. 

“i should be the one thanking you,” jaehyun murmurs. “for trusting me enough with this.”

“‘m sorry it took so long,” taeyong says. “but i’m really glad i told you.”

“me too,” jaehyun murmurs, sounding sleepy again.

taeyong plants a soft kiss on jaehyun’s throat, nuzzling in to feel the vibration of jaehyun’s pleased groan against his lips. 

jaehyun’s fast asleep a few minutes later, and taeyong follows him soon after, his last conscious thought being of the pretty white satin and lace set he bought while he was shopping online a few days ago, and what the look on jaehyun’s face will be when he surprises him with it. 

**Author's Note:**

> yonggie's sets: [x](https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/lula-bra-nude-and-pink) (minus the bra)  
> [x](https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/castalia-suspender-black-green-and-gold)
> 
> special thanks to [ukeyong](http://www.ukeyong.tumblr.com) for beta reading!!
> 
> come talk to me about it on [tumblr](http://www.babyttaeyong.tumblr.com)


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